He Wouldn't Call It Revenge
by catie-withac
Summary: Sokka never thought about what Zuko's childhood was like, but now that he knew, he couldn't sit still. Even if it was just for his own satisfaction, he needed to do a little something.


The worst father in the history of fathers. That's what Zuko called Ozai, and Sokka couldn't help but think of it now as he stared at the shell of a man. Aang had formed some earthen restraints as an added measure while they waited for reinforcements to help transport the former Firelord back to the Fire Nation, but he was mostly just slumped against a rock. Sokka himself was leaning against Suki's side, taking in the comfort of her existence as they sat on the ground. Toph and Aang were seated across from them. The airbender was regaling them with the tale of the strange moving island that turned out to be a giant lionturtle, but Sokka just couldn't focus on it.

He was still thinking about his conversation with Zuko from a few nights before. It was after they saw the production by The Ember Island Players and the rest of their group had already gone to sleep. Sokka decided to keep watch, still a little uneasy about hiding out in the enemy nation, and it was clear that Zuko was unable to fall asleep. The prince was tossing and turning in attempts to get comfortable, but nothing seemed to be working. Finally he sighed heavily and sat up, seeing Sokka sitting on the edge of the fountain.

"Can't sleep either?" Zuko asked as he got up to join him.

"Yeah," he replied.

It was easier to lie a little. Sokka didn't need another lecture about how safe they were. This was for his own peace of mind.

"I guess that play got to us more than we originally thought," Zuko stated, "At least you didn't die in it."

He laughed slightly.

"That's true," he returned, giving a half smile, "but I'm not a real member of Fire Nation society. These people don't know me."

Zuko nodded slowly.

"Yeah, well, it's clear they don't care anymore," he said, "I'm basically banished again."

"Why were you banished in the first place?" Sokka asked abruptly, "I didn't even realize you were until we met Azula, and we never found out. I mean, if you don't want to tell me, that's okay."

The prince was silent for a moment as he stared at the tiled ground. Sokka immediately felt guilty for saying anything. It was obviously a bad subject.

"I was thirteen," he began carefully, running an anxious hand through his shaggy hair, "It was the first war meeting I was allowed to go to, but I wasn't really supposed to say anything. This one general was talking about a plan though... he was going to sacrifice a whole regiment to achieve his endgame and I couldn't stand it. He didn't care about the lives of his soldiers at all. My input didn't mean a thing but I spoke out anyway. I felt like it was my duty, but it was seen as extremely disrespectful."

"They banished you for that?" Sokka interrupted incredulously.

"I'm not done," the prince told him in his usual hard-pressed way.

"Sorry, go on."

He sighed and held the bridge of his nose for a second before continuing.

"I was challenged to an Agni Kai and I accepted. I was determined to defeat the general and maybe make my word mean something, but I misunderstood. At the start of the duel, I discovered that I was about to fight my father... and I couldn't do it. I begged him for forgiveness but he just saw it as weakness. It was over quickly though. He gave me this scar and then I was out. As soon as I recovered, I was banished and only permitted to return if I brought back the avatar too."

They were silent for a while.

"I never realized that's where you got it," Sokka said softly, "I always assumed it was a training accident."

Zuko scoffed.

"I wish."

"I'm sorry," he told him quietly.

The prince just shook his head.

"It's not like I thought he cared about me then either," he admitted bitterly, "He always said I was lucky to be born. Azula was the one he accepted. My mother was the only person to care about me besides Uncle, but she disappeared when I was young. I never really knew why before the eclipse. My father finally told me the truth, that she was protecting me. Azulon had ordered him to kill me as punishment for trying to take advantage of my cousin's death and steal the first-born right of my uncle. He was going to do it but my mom found out. She made a deal with him so that I would be spared if she killed Azulon and tampered with the will. That's why she was banished. My father never cared about family, it was always about power. I doubt he even cares about Azula really. He's just a greedy bastard."

Sokka didn't even have time to say anything before the prince stormed off towards the beach. He almost went after him, but he knew nothing he could say or do could change the past.

Yet now here he was, staring at a bound and helpless Ozai, and Sokka was furious.

"Help me up," he said to Suki, already starting to stand.

He couldn't do it without assistance because of his broken leg, but that didn't matter.

"What is it?" She asked, already helping anyway.

"Just humor me," he requested.

Toph and Aang had quieted and were watching with worried curiosity as they stood beside Ozai. Sokka leaned a hand against the rock wall and used the other to grip the man's neck and hoist him up.

"Sokka," Aang warned anxiously.

He paid no attention. He just looked into Ozai's uncaring amber eyes, so different from the warm ones of his best friend, and gritted his teeth. With no hesitation, he delivered a hard right hook to the man's face, the momentum causing Sokka to fall as well. Suki quickly caught him as he heard groans of pain from the former Firelord. Aang and Toph were now standing too. The airbender even helped Sokka back to his feet, a look of heightened concern on his face.

"That's for Zuko," the warrior spat, "He's a thousand times the man you are."

Nobody said anything else. They guided him back to where they had been sitting, and even Aang didn't dare to reprimand his use of violence. No one could deny the truth in Sokka's statement. And if it later seemed strange that Ozai had a perfect black eye from a bending battle, there was no one who cared enough to ask.


End file.
